


Inadvertent Seduction

by Boney_M



Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: M/M, Pack Street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boney_M/pseuds/Boney_M
Summary: Marty gets his cross-dressed alter-ego, Martina, to express his thanks to Pack Street's resident ram. Shame he forgot to check the calendar first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for TT16, Valentine's Day. Set just after Savages.

Marty glowered at the book in his hands, his eyes running along the words through sheer habit despite not a single one registering in his mind. A problem that had seemed insurmountable had been solved, he should be relieved. And if it was anyone else that had helped him out, he would be. But that it was the grazer that had come to his rescue...

Okay, technically, he was pack now. And he was probably just going above and beyond to make a good impression after his major fumbles he's made in the past. But he still didn't have to help out - nobody else knew about the problem, and he wasn't gonna tell them. Pack might help each other out but dragging them in to help you out at work didn't sit right with him. But then fuckin' Remmy had wandered into his library while he was trying to hammer in a nail half as long as he was tall and next thing he knew, the grazer had dropped everything to help out, even though he had to make some sort of hoof grip thing out of rubber bands and pencils just to get a decent grip on the fucking hammer.

Four hours it had taken them, disassembling pallets scavenged from behind a hardware store and nailing the wood back together to build a bookshelf to replace one that had finally collapsed under the weight of too many books after decades of service. Remmy had even gone out and bought some sandpaper and varnish to turn the rough, splintered wood into something that wasn't risky to touch, and in the end it had turned out quite good, looking more like a cheap but serviceable set of shelves instead of something desperately cobbled together at the last minute. Remmy, it turns out, was surprisingly good with his hooves. And then he had refused to let Marty reimburse him from the library's nearly-empty petty cash tin, said he'd give the library's donation tin a miss next time it was raising funds at the gym, and they could call that even.

Marty almost missed the old Remmy, with the stick up his ass and the locks on his door. At least he knew where he stood with that Remmy. The new, helpful, friendly Remmy put him off-balance. Especially a Remmy that he was indebted to, no matter what the grazer said. He may be alright at casually coexisting with the sheep when watching the game in the lobby, but actually being nice to him?

He could probably just not do anything. He doubted Remmy would push the matter or even mention it to anyone. But he wasn't going to play into the grazer's weird martyr complex about living with preds. But the grudging, muttered, 'thanks' he gave Remmy as the ram left the library wasn't going to cut it. He owed him more than that. But he doubted he'd said a single friendly word to Remmy, so he wouldn't know-

Wait. There was one time. Remmy's mentioning of the library donation tin had it floating in the back of his mind. At Packer's, when he had bought one of his granola bars. 'Martina' had been plenty friendly to Remmy, even thanked him sweetly for the extra few bucks he threw in for the library fund. In the end it hadn't quite been enough to replace the shelf in time, but now that Remmy had done such good work in putting together a replacement it could wait a few years and the money could go somewhere else it was desperately needed in the library.

Well, that could be a solution. Martina could shout Remmy lunch tomorrow and pass on his thanks, and that would make them... not quite even, but close enough that he could feel comfortable leaving the matter settled until an opportunity came up to return the favour. And Remmy was clueless enough that it wouldn't even occur to him to ask any awkward questions. It was a perfect solution.

\---

"Marty, are you home?"

Occupied as he was with painting his lips a slightly lighter shade, Marty couldn't respond verbally. Instead, he rapped a knuckle of his spare paw against the glass of the mirror, attracting Charlie's attention, and a moment later she peered through the doorway of the bathroom. "Marty, what- ah." Charlie blinked at him, in that barely-moving-her-eyelids way of hers. "Martina is making an appearance today?"

"Yeah." He said, smacking his lips as he finally finished applying the lipstick. He almost left it at that, but something prompted him to explain further. "Remmy did me a solid yesterday, so Martina's gonna buy him lunch as a thank-you."

"Are you certain this is an auspicious date?"

Marty side-eyed Charlie. He knew she got some weird fuckin' ideas in her head, but astrology was a new one. He resisted the urge to start poking at that can of worms and simply replied, "yeah, I am."

"Very well," Charlie replied, nodding to herself, and Marty relaxed as he put the finishing touches on the make-up. Charlie could get on his nerves at times, but her open-mindedness was one trait of hers he was very thankful for. Having to hide his alter ego in his own home would've been a huge pain.

"So why were you looking for me, anyway?"

"I was going to ask if you had plans for lunch, but I see now that you're craving mutton." Charlie ducked out of the doorway to avoid the comb that Marty threw at her head, who just rolled his eyes as he looked himself up and down in the mirror. He'd always been small for a stoat, but not enough to pass for female to anyone that knew much about them. But most mammals didn't realize the size difference between male and female stoats, so that was probably fine. The light, subtle perfume he had sprayed himself with would conceal his scent - male stoats had larger scent glands, too. Apart from that, it was all about playing along to Zootopia's gender fashions. A little eyeliner, some lipstick, some false eyelashes and a wig was all it took. Well, that, and a deliberate attempt to relax his facial expressions from Marty's habitual, defensive scowl. Martina's look was a lot more open and sunny, and that, more than the make-up, transformed him.

"You look very nice," Charlie said, reappearing behind him. Marty would have snarked back at that, but Martina just accepted the compliment with a smile.

\---

Remmy was relaxing in his apartment, surfing aimlessly on his phone. Most of the internet was taken up by the usual Valentine's Day nonsense. Usually he ignored it, but this year it was annoying the hell out of him. Maybe because of the odd, tense relationships he had with some of his female packmates, or maybe it was that earlier that day he had wondered if Pandora had something planned for her store today before she had gone savage, and the thought wouldn't leave him alone.

When the light knocking came to his door, he welcomed the distraction from his thoughts as he hauled himself off the couch. He opened the door and looked out into an empty corridor, then took a step back and looked down and saw a slightly familiar stoat in a pink blouse and matching skirt. "Oh, hey. Martina, right? Marty's sister?" The little stoat smiled, seemingly happy to be remembered.

"Hi, Remmy. Marty told me what you did to help the library, and I wanted to say thank you." Martina's voice was light and sincere, completely different to the gruff, reluctant 'thanks' that Marty had given him yesterday, and Remmy felt a warm smile spreading across his face.

"It was nothing, I just pitched in a little," he demurred.

"No, I saw the shelves you made. I've been trying to raise money to replace those shelves for weeks, but now that money can go towards something else at the library because of how good a job you did." Remmy preened at that, his smile growing. "You could have not helped, or you could have done a half-assed patch job like Marty was going to, but instead you made the library some good, proper shelves. Ones that will probably last us for years. So, in return, I wanted to buy you lunch. It's the least I could do to at least start to pay you back."

"You don't have to-"

"I insist, Remmy." The hint of sternness that crept into her voice brooked no further disagreement. It also reminded Remmy a little of her brother.

So he just shrugged. "Well, okay then. Let me just grab my keys and my phone."

As he was collecting his things, he froze as he came to a realization. She was asking him to lunch. On Valentine's Day. Was this a- no, he'd had that line of thought before. He waited for Martina to insist that it wasn't a date.

"Are you coming, or what?" Martina asked, a hint of impatience in her voice.

Holy shit.

\---

Martina lead the two of them to a cafe a couple blocks away. Instead of the sidewalk cafes he was familiar with, this one was all indoors, built for smaller mammals. Remmy could feel the top of his wool brushing the dangling light fixtures as he passed underneath them, and he was sure that anyone larger than he was wouldn't be able to squeeze in. Martina made her way through the crowd of tables and patrons with familiarity and claimed a table at the far wall, before turning and gesturing impatiently at him, and he did his best to follow without bumping into anything or anyone.

"Melesian cafe," she explained as he took his seat across from her. "Bit of a tight fit for you, but it'll be worth it for the food here, just wait and see." Martina frowned at the crowd. "Weird how crowded it is."

Remmy smiled at what he thought was a joke, nodding along. They sat in slightly awkward silence while Martina tried to catch the attention of the waiter nearest them - a frazzled-looking red-furred weasel - who looked at Remmy askance as he approached. The waiter leaned over and murmured something to Martina as he passed her the menu, who gave him a withering look in return. "Just get us a carafe of water and keep the commentary to yourself." The waiter nodded, chastened, and ducked away with a muttered apology. Martina watched him go, her eyes narrowed, her expression reminding him a lot of her brother. "Course I know there's no fuckin' vegetarian option, you stupid fuck," she muttered at the waiter's retreating back, giving Remmy an idea of what the weasel had said. She must have heard about his taste for meat from her brother, he thought.

"I'm used to it," he said in the waiter's defence, taking the menu as Martina passed it to him. She just gave him an annoyed look and rolled her eyes, and he looked down at the menu as she continued her grumbling invective. Sure enough, the menu was entirely carnivorous, and his mouth started watering at some of the options - and at fairly low prices, too, even accounting for smaller serving sizes. 

By the time he looked up again, Martina was smiling again, and giving him a searching look. "See something you like?" she asked, her voice smug.

'Holy shit,' Remmy thought as he froze up, 'she's flirting with me'. A moment later Martina raised an eyebrow at his silence, and he spurred himself into a reply. "The prawns look interesting," he replied, dropping his gaze down to avoid hers. "I've tried bugs and I've tried fish, but I haven't tried water bugs."

"It's good to broaden your horizons," she replied happily, only confirming to Remmy that the stoat had been flirting with him. "We could share a plate of seafood satay sticks. That way if the prawns don't agree with you, you'll still have the fish and vegetables."

"Sounds good to me," Remmy agreed, his voice barely wavering at the thought of sharing a dish with the flirty stoat.

\---

After Martina imperiously called the offending waiter back to tell him their order and then brusquely dismissed him, she and Remmy made small talk, Remmy taking the opportunity to get to know a little more about Martina. She seemed to hesitate at every question about herself that he asked, hinting at a more shy and reserved personality than he was used to dealing with in Pack Street. It seemed to run counter to her flirting with him and the way she had dealt with the waiter. She was a puzzle, but that only intrigued Remmy further.

Despite her reluctance to speak about herself, Remmy learned that she volunteered for the library rather than working at it, and that she shared most of her brother's tastes in entertainment except for taking a guilty pleasure in period romance novels - 'as long as they accurately portrayed the period they were supposedly set in', she had added primly.

After he had learned enough about the stoat girl to satisfy him, the conversation drifted with only a few brief lulls that didn't quite last long enough to be uncomfortable. After he mentioned his liking for some of the graffiti he had seen around the place, she seized the topic and ran with it, speaking animatedly about how they were a modern expression of an ancient art-form that had decorated predator living spaces since the very start of recorded history, speaking with such animated passion that he found himself nodding along.

To his surprise, he found himself enjoying the conversation. Martina was warm and friendly, and spoke with real fire when she got onto a subject close to her heart, and while she had some sharp edges, none of them had been pointed at him and he found himself thinking that they just added a new dimension to her character. She had steel in her spine, which he found himself respecting a lot more than if she was just soft and pleasant all the way through. And besides, she was cute when she was expounding.

He was almost disappointed when the food finally arrived and interrupted her soapboxing, but only until he got the first whiff of the satay sticks.

\---

The two of them had polished off the meal quickly, Remmy finding the fish very much to his liking even though it was completely different to what he had tasted at Neil's truck, though he wasn't sure whether that was down to spices or being a different type of fish. The prawns had been an entirely new experience - to his surprise, they tasted nothing like the bugs he'd had previously. The taste was reminiscent of fish, but the texture was entirely different, and he found himself enjoying it a fair bit. All too quickly, they had been down to the last satay stick, and - part boldness and part greed - Remmy had suggested they share it. To his surprise, Martina had agreed, and they had passed it back and forth, biting alternate morsels off the stick. Remmy had blushed slighty under his wool, but if it had gotten to Martina she had managed to hide it.

When the waiter came by with the bill, Martina produced a small, pink clutch bag from a pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt and produced exact change, staring the waiter in the face as if daring him to say something. The weasel wisely refrained from commenting, simply taking the payment from her with a quiet thanks and quickly making himself scarce. "If he had wanted a tip, he should have kept his comments to himself," she explained to Remmy as she got to her feet. Remmy smiled to himself and followed her out of the cafe.

After the confidence with which she had dealt with the waiter, Remmy was surprised to find that Martina had come to a halt just outside the cafe. He took his place standing beside her and followed her gaze, and for a few moments they stood there, watching the world go by - and in his peripheral vision, watching Martina sneak glances at him. In contrast to most of her behaviour so far, she looked a little lost, like she was searching for the right way to say something. Remmy wondered what was eating at her, especially since it contrasted so much with how she was leading the way earlier. And that thought made it click for him - maybe she was trying to end the date on a high note, and didn't want him trying to invite himself home with her, but didn't know how to politely do so. So he decided to take the initiative, and do it for her.

"Listen, I'd love to spend some more time with you, but I have to run some errands before the stores close." Martina looked a little relieved, and Remmy congratulated himself on reading it right. He had to remind himself that he wasn't dealing with his oversexed neighbours. What little he knew about her suggested that Martina was a lot more reserved than, say, Avo or Anneke. Perhaps she hadn't been looking forward to the will-they-won't-they of the kiss at the doorway. Or maybe, he considered, she was a bit shy about revealing to people where she lived, which was probably sensible for a young woman living on her own.

Emboldened by realizing that, for once, he wasn't the one on the defensive, he mustered his courage, took a knee, and then took Martina's paw in his hoof. "Thanks a lot for today. I had a great time. And I hadn't been looking forward to spending Valentine's Day alone." And he leaned forward and kissed Martina gently on the cheek.

He smiled again as he watched as Martina froze up, a blush creeping across her cheeks. Satisfied that he'd ended the date on a high note, he released her hand, stood up, and walked away, leaving the stoat staring after him in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BAD AT ONESHOTTING

Remmy mustered up all his courage, took a deep breath, and rapped his hoof against the door to Marty's apartment. Almost two weeks had gone by since his date with Martina, and ever since then he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the tiny stoat girl. And neither had anyone he had asked, and he had attracted a fair few comments by doing so. So now he had no other resort but to discuss the matter with the very last person he wanted to discuss it with: Marty.

When the door swung open, Remmy was relieved to see that he had been granted a very brief reprieve, since it was Charlie who had answered the door. "Hey, Charlie. Is Marty home? I gotta speak to him."

Charlie gave Remmy a long, quiet look, and then nodded once and shut the door. Remmy shifted from hoof to hoof awkwardly, then more so as the wait dragged on. Straining his ears, he heard nothing but a low humming from the other side of the door. He was considering knocking again when a series of beeps reached his ears, and only then did he hear Charlie calling out Marty's name.

When the door opened again, and along with the sight of Marty's scowling face looking up at him, he was also greeted with a noseful of the smell of popcorn. Glancing past Marty, he saw Charlie sitting in the stoat's reading chair, watching the two of them closely while shoveling pawfuls of kernels into her mouth.

"What is it, Remmy?" Marty asked, his tone no harsher than normal, which Remmy took as a good sign. He took a deep breath, and plunged right in.

"It's about your sister. Look, don't be mad, but on Valentine's Day she sorta took me out on a date-"

"I know." Marty's expression was closed, but not hostile.

"You know?"

"Yeah. She tells me everything."

"Huh." Remmy hadn't really considered Marty to be the type that a sister would confide in, but he supposed the stoat could have hidden depths. "Well, it's just that I haven't seen her around since then. Not even at Packer's, and Cliff says she hasn't been doing her fundraising there for a couple of weeks. And I was kinda worried that maybe I'd screwed up on the date or something."

"Ah, shit." Marty said, running a paw over his head. He looked over his shoulder at Charlie, who waved at him with a pawful of popcorn, and seemed to be seriously considering bailing on the conversation before his shoulders slumped. "Alright, yeah, I suppose we gotta talk."

"If I said, or did something that upset her-"

Marty looked deeply uncomfortable with the conversation, but plowed forward regardless. "Look, Remmy, you didn't do anything wrong. Martina's just out of her element with you. You're... not her usual type, if you understand what I'm saying."

Remmy frowned, worried that he did see what he was saying. "Because... what? I'm a larger mammal? Because I'm a sheep? I'm prey?"

"Because you're a guy," Marty interrupted bluntly.

Remmy's mouth snapped shut with a click as he processed that. "Oh," he said, eventually.

"Yeah."

"But... she was the one that asked me out."

"I'm as surprised as you are," Marty muttered. The two of them stood there awkwardly for a moment, the only sound breaking the silence being Charlie munching on her popcorn.

Remmy broke it first. "Look, it's okay, if she wants we can just pretend the date never happened," he offered, plastering a weak smile across his face. It hurt to make the offer - his date with Martina had been the most simply enjoyable interaction he'd had with a female since he came to Pack Street, missing the usual minefield of innuendo and sexual banter that he usually blundered right into the middle of. It wasn't like he was in love with her or anything, but he had really enjoyed her company and he'd rather have her around as an acquaintance than have his date sour things and drive her away from the neighborhood entirely.

While Remmy had been stewing on that, Marty seemed to have been lost in thought himself, and when he finally replied he sounded almost surprised with his answer. "I... don't think she wants that. She just... needs some time to process things." He smiled apologetically, the expression looking out of place on his face, and Remmy found himself smiling back.

"Okay. That's- I get it, actually. I'm not exactly the poster child for adjusting to change well, myself," Remmy said with a self-deprecating chuckle, and Marty snorted something that was almost a chuckle in agreement. "Look, ball's in her court, okay? I won't go up to her and make things weird if I see her around. She really seems to care for that library of yours and I don't want to be responsible for chasing her away from the neighborhood or anything."

Marty smiled again, and Remmy was struck by how much he resembled his sister when the usual glower was absent from his face. Nothing like as cute, though. "That's good of you. Look, she'll get in touch with you sooner rather than later, one way or the other, okay? Don't put yourself on the rack about this. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Thanks, Marty." Remmy resisted an urge to get on one knee and hug the little guy. Instead he held out a hoof for the stoat to bump, and after a moment he did. They exchanged nods, and Remmy turned and left.

\---

Marty closed the door and headbutt it a couple of times.

"That went well," Charlie commented from behind him, through a mouthful of popcorn.

Marty groaned wordlessly, dragging himself away from the door to collapse into the sofa in front of Charlie, face-down. After a long moment of thought, he propped himself up on his paws and gave Charlie an accusing glare. "Go on. Ask."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"I don't know." Marty glowered at Charlie for a moment. "Okay, I do know. 'She didn't realize it was a date!' Fuck, that's tear-his-heart-out-and-stamp-on-it shit. I like to fuck with the grazer but that'd just be brutal. He doesn't deserve that."

"Not even after toying with Martina's heart?"

"It wasn't a bad date," he replied, a touch defensively. "He didn't talk much but he let me ramble on and actually seemed interested. I sure as shit don't get girls acting interested when Marty goes on dates."

"Is that why you didn't take the out he gave you?"

Marty growled, and buried his face back into the sofa. Charlie waited patiently, considering an un-popped kernel held between her claws as Marty's silence dragged on. "It was nice," he said into the cushion, his voice muffled. "I just had to show up and be myself. Well, Martina's self. Close enough. And Remmy's actually a good company when he's not on guard."

"I could have told you that," Charlie noted, ignoring Marty's glare as he looked up from the cushion. "He's actually a simple soul, the grand mysteries of his past notwithstanding. You get out of him what you put in."

Marty though on that, his chin propped up on his paws. "'So well as by reflection, I, your glass / Will modestly discover to yourself / That of yourself which you yet know not of.' Shit. This really isn't a good time to go soul-searching myself by proxy."

Charlie cocked her head at him. "I did warn you."

"Yeah, I realized that way too fuckin' late. 'An auspicious date'. Clever." Charlie looked pleased with herself.

"So, will you continue on with your spelunking?"

"Maybe?" Marty screwed his eyes shut as he thought. "With his expectations tempered, maybe I could see a little bit of where this goes without breaking the poor fucker's heart in the process. Besides, Martina's getting a bit cooped up."

"It doesn't suit her to be a caged bird," Charlie agreed.

"Can't believe I'm actually considering this," Marty grumbled. But with the entire thing reframed as a journey of self-discovery, the idea was a whole lot easier to wrap his mind around.

The thing he refused to let himself think about, however, was that when he thought back to the date with Remmy, it wasn't anything that he might have discovered about himself that he kept dwelling on.


	3. Chapter 3

Remmy had been relieved to see life in Pack Street return to normal, or at least the tense version of normal that had taken over recently. Martina reappeared selling snacks and drinks at Packer's, and though he fulfilled his promise to not approach her, she responded in kind to his smile and wave, which lifted Remmy's spirits and encouraged him to hit the weights a little harder than usual, just in case she was watching.

But after that, all there was to do was settle down and wait. His hours at work were sorely lacking - as usual - so he had a lot of spare time and little money to spend filling it. So he spent a fair bit of time in his apartment, listening to music and staring into space, thinking. And quite often his thoughts returned to Martina.

Martina was so different to the other residents of Pack Street. While Remmy had come to enjoy the parry-and-thrust of the playful (if barbed) banter that was the standard form of communication among them, it could get exhausting. Martina, however, had been so easy to talk to. Even though the incident with the waiter had shown she had a temper to match her brother's, he felt sure that it wouldn't be leveled at him unless he did something to earn it. And he seemed to be getting close to exhausting every possible pred-prey interaction faux pas imaginable, so there surely couldn't be many left that could sabotage his budding relationship with the young stoat woman.

It would be melodramatic to say 'as if summoned by his thoughts', because Martina had been on Remmy's mind quite a bit in the past few days without any summoning. But on one particular occasion, a couple of days after he had last seen her at Packer's, his thoughts of Martina were met with a rapping on his door that barely penetrated through his headphones.

\---

As Remmy opened the door, the stoat that had been knocking jumped, turning back towards the door. It seemed she had been in the process of turning to leave when he'd answered. "Oh! I thought you weren't in," Martina squeaked nervously, her eyes darting up and down the hallway.

"Sorry, I had my headphones on," Remmy said, smiling at the nervous stoat. It was a strange feeling to not be the one on the back foot. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Sure!" Martina said with a relieved smile, smoothly darting through the gap between Remmy and the doorway, and Remmy shut the door with an internal shrug. If Martina didn't want to chat in the hallway, he couldn't really blame her.

Martina was looking around the apartment aimlessly, and Remmy suddenly felt self-conscious. He had gotten used to most of the rest of his 'pack' - and it still felt strange to think of them like that - wandering in more or less at will, but Martina had never seen the inside of his little sanctum and he wondered what she was seeing. Was she hoping to find a roomful of shelves, like her brother had? Would that be what her place looked like, wherever it was? Wait, where did she live, anyway? Nearby, surely. Though probably not in the building, or he'd see her more often, unless she was a real homebody. Perhaps she was Avo's mystery flatmate?

While his mind was whirring, the rest of him had gone into autopilot and offered Martina a drink, telling her to help herself to anything in the fridge. She accepted with another smile and pried it open with a little effort - it wasn't built for mammals half Remmy's size, after all - and perused the contents. She was momentarily distracted by the carefully rationed cheese, and Remmy had enough time to wonder how she'd take that before she turned her attention to his drink selection, and gave a happy little noise when she found that he still had some grape soda left from the last time Marty had cleaned out some factory outlet at a price almost as cheap as water and resold it at a tiny mark-up to everyone in the building.

Of course she'd take after her brother in that regard, he thought, watching her try to reach the top shelf it was on, finally managing to tip it forward by jumping up and poking the bottom through the shelf, and then managing to catch it with a slight grunt as it fell. He'd have offered to help, but the skirt she was wearing today showed off her legs quite well when she jumped, and he'd found himself quite distracted, barely managing to shift his gaze as Martina turned back to him, smiling triumphantly at the prize in her arms.

He wondered if her lips would taste like grape, too.

Apparently not noticing his distraction, Martina used her claws to lever up the pull-tab and then gripped it with her teeth, jerking her head pack to crack open the can with a practiced motion. If Martina hadn't been half his height, Remmy might have found it intimidating, but as it was, he watched in fascination as she unhooked her curved fangs from the pull-tab and licked the spray of grape soda from her lips. This woman was killing him, and she'd barely said a word.

\---

The two of them made small talk for a while, defaulting back to the safe conversation topic of the library. But even that turned out to be tainted by recent events, and conversation trailed off miserably after Martina mentioned that the fundraising take at Packer's was way down because mammals were going out less.

"Well, while we're on that topic," Martina said, with a bitter smile, "there's something I wanted to ask you. There's a mixed-species, pred-and-prey troupe performing Macbear downtown, right next to the city center, and I've heard good things about it in reviews. Because of the whole 'savage' thing, there's been talk of it being cancelled, and I want to see it before that happens." She hesitated, but then plunged on. "But I've heard that things are getting heated downtown, and that there's anti-pred protesters picketing the show. It might not be safe to go alone." The admission seemed to rankle the stoat, her face twisting into a grimace.

Remmy's expression matched Martina's. He could see where those people were coming from, of course - he wasn't much different to them when he first moved to Pack Street, after all. But in the end, him coming close to understanding what they were getting at just soured him on them all the more. Most of them lived in majority-prey neighborhoods with solid locks on their doors and ZPD officers on every corner. He lived surrounded by predators every day and still didn't feel the need to protest... what were they even protesting? Predators being visible in public? That took hate, and he just didn't have hate in him for predators. A bit of fear lately, sure, and caution in abundance. But hate? How could he? If anything, the predators he knew feared going savage even more than he feared being around when someone else did. Some days he felt like the lucky one, to be the lone prey surrounded by predators. At least he didn't have to fear something inside him.

So he nodded, his face hardening. If anyone tried to give Martina, sweet, harmless Martina, trouble just because she was a predator, he'd- he'd- well, he'd do something about it. Then another thought occurred to him. "What about Marty? This seems like the sort of thing he'd be interested in too. Would he want to come along?"

Martina's eyes darted back and forth, and she hesitated before answering. "He's... busy today. Maybe he can catch it some other time." She turned her gaze back to Remmy, her eyes suddenly searching. "You'd do that for him? I thought you and him didn't get along that well."

Remmy paused, and chose his words carefully. "Marty can be intense, sure. But he wasn't any more hostile to me than anyone else back when I was new here, and at least he had the good graces to explain why. His heart's in the right place. So yeah, I wouldn't mind helping him dodge some bigots."

Martina smiled hugely at that, and impulsively threw herself at Remmy, hugging what she could reach of his front while he patted her back awkwardly. Their eyes met as Martina smiled up at him and he found himself returning it.

The moment passed a moment later as Martina detached herself from Remmy's front with a cough, averting her gaze. After a moment to collect herself, she said, "so, shall we?"

\---

"Maybe a tragedy wasn't a great choice, but damn if it doesn't resonate." Martina shivered slightly, pressing closer to Remmy's side as they made their way out of the theater, slowed by the milling crowds. "'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, / Creeps in this petty pace from day to day.'" Remmy nodded in response, putting his hoof around her shoulder. He never really paid much attention to theater, but what he had managed to glean through the old-fashioned vernacular had been pretty depressing, but in a way that spoke to him more than he liked.

"It was the poor girl playing Lady Macbear I felt sorry for. She almost choked on some of her lines when the character was psyching herself up."

"'Make thick my blood; / Stop up the access and passage to remorse, / That no compunctious visitings of nature / Shake my fell purpose'. Couldn't have been easy for them to tempt fate like that."

"Have you memorized all of these plays?"

"Just the good ones."

As they finally reached the doors leading out of the theater, the noise of the crowd of theater patrons suddenly gave way to the noise of a different crowd altogether. While the play had been going on, a mass of protesters had assembled outside, and were chanting as one, "martial law for the sharpened claw!" Signs were being waved around, mostly featuring silhouettes of teeth or claws with the no-symbol superimposed, but a couple of them had gotten creative - Remmy saw 'funnel tax dollars into tracking collars' and 'carnivore leads to gore' before he got the general idea. As his arm tightened protectively around Martina's shoulders, he felt, rather than heard, her start to grumble something that Remmy couldn't quite hear, but could probably take a guess at. He was briefly thankful that she had the restraint to do so under her breath rather than the top of her voice. However, occupied with looking up at the signs being waved high above her small form, Martina missed the protester who was within earshot, even through the din of the crowd - a furious-looking squirrel in a 'Prey Rights' T-shirt.

Before Remmy had a chance to register what was happening, the squirrel was yelling at Martina and Martina had stepped forward to yell right back, and those in the crowd nearest them backed up at the spectacle, and Remmy had just started to consider that it might be a good idea to intervene when something the squirrel said set Martina off even more, and the stoat had thrown herself foward, her tiny fist leading the way and connecting solidly with the squirrel's jaw. The squirrel staggered backwards as a long, yellow incisor flew through the air and into the crowd, prompting a shriek of disgust as another protester was unable to get out of it's trajectory.

The crowd of protesters nearest to them went had gone quiet as they watched, and Remmy - knowing more than he'd like about herd dynamics - knew that in a moment or two they'd start reacting, and it wouldn't be pretty. He took full advantage of the scant handful of seconds to do what he probably should have done earlier - he grabbed Martina in both hoofs and ran for it.

\---

Remmy managed to lose himself quickly in the crowd, breaking line of sight with those that had witnessed Martina's punch and then weaving as best he could through the crowd until he found a side street, then dashing down it and around another corner at full speed. After a few more turns he managed to find a side street that was free of pedestrians, and he felt pretty sure of three things: that he had lost the crowd, that he was out of breath, and that if he didn't put Martina down, she was probably going to start biting him. He carefully put her down on a bench by the side of a road and collapsed into it, panting and thankful for the time he had put in at Packer's.

While he caught his breath, Martina stood next to him on the seat, her arms folded and a scowl on her face. But as she glared at him, she huffed and looked away. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice gruff. "That was stupid of me."

"Punching the guy?" Remmy panted.

"No, doing it with that much of an unfriendly audience."

Remmy snorted through his panting, leaning back. "What was that about, anyway? I couldn't hear any of it."

Martina shrugged. "Stoats and small prey. Old grudges die hard." That seemed to be all that she was willing to say on the matter, and Remmy decided to leave it at that. He could understand being on edge, surrounded as she had been with mostly much larger protesters, and to add to that someone of punchable size making it personal... He took out his phone and prodded the map app into life, waiting patiently as it chugged it's way through launching the program.

"Damn," he said, quietly but with feeling, when it had finally figured out where to put them on the map.

"What?"

"I ran in the opposite direction of the train station. We'd have to go back pretty much the way I came to get to it. Unless..." he dragged the tip of a hoof across the screen a couple of times. "Looks like a forty minute walk to the next one."

"Damn." Martina said, looking over at the display. Then she thought about it further, and repeated "damn" again.

\---

By the time Remmy and Martina had returned to Pack Street, the sun had long since set and most of the rest of the city had vacated the streets. Pack Street, however, was just coming alive, and when Remmy came strolling down the sidewalk with an exhausted stoat curled up against the back of his neck like a stole, he got his share of looks and then some. Martina was half asleep, having braved the long walk to the distant train station on paw but had eventually surrendered to exhaustion - physical and mental - and had asked if she could ride Remmy's shoulders - but only after a great deal of hesitation and inaudible mumbling. The final straw for her had been when her train ticket was triple-checked by a rabbit ticket inspector while waiting for a transfer at Peak Street station, which was so packed with mammals that it was standing room only.

Remmy was no less exhausted than Martina, but his pride and stubbornness drove him forward, step by step. He exchanged nods with a couple of faces he vaguely recognized, thankful that he had finally become enough of a staple that he passed unchallenged, if not unnoticed, in this part of town. And after what felt like half a lifetime of resigned plodding, he finally arrived at what he was vaguely surprised to think of as home. Sanctuary. Safety. Not the front door to his apartment, but to the building as a whole. 

Martina stirred on his neck as he pondered that at the front stoop, and he reached out and pushed through to the lobby. For a moment he was vaguely surprised to find it empty, but at his entrance, the head of someone who had been lying on the couch popped up. "Oh, hey woolly B," said Ozzy, his eyes half-lidded, and he started to lie back down, obviously still mostly out of it from it being early in the nocturnal 'morning'. Then he levered himself back up, rubbing at an eye with the back of his paw and squinting. "Is that-"

"Hi, Ozzy," interrupted Martina.

"Oh. Oh, Martina, hey," said Ozzy, a bemused tone to his voice. He continued to look towards the two of them for a moment longer as if staring at a puzzle he didn't know where to start solving, then shrugged and flopped back down. "You two been out?"

"Macbear, over in the city center," replied Martina. "Ran into some trouble on the way back. Protesters." The final word was spat with a level of venom that seemed out of place in Martina's soft tones.

For the third time Ozzy levered himself up, the last traces of sleepiness gone from his expression. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," said Remmy. "Just tired."

"I punched out a squirrel," said Martina, pride audible in her voice through the fatigue.

"You need an alibi?" Ozzy asked, his tone only half joking.

"Should be alright," Martina said. "Thanks, though."

"Any time." Oz flopped backwards again, satisfied.

Remmy took that as his cue to move on to the final hurdle: the stairs leading up to his and Marty's apartments. He paused at the base of them, looking up, and something occurred to his tired mind. "Wait, you don't- I mean, I'm pretty sure you don't live in this building, or I'd see you more-" there was a choked sound from the couch. "I mean... do you?"

"I- uh, I'll crash at Marty's place. He won't mind."

Another choked sound came from the couch, sounding suspiciously like a smothered laugh, which Remmy cocked his head at. But when no further commentary was forthcoming, he shrugged - well, he almost shrugged, then he remembered that there was a stoat on his shoulders, so he just thought about shrugging - and made his way up the stairs.

\---

Martina climbed down off Remmy's shoulders as he reached the top of the stairs, and produced a key from her pockets to unlock Marty's front door. "Come on in," she said over her shoulder, beelining towards a couch and then reluctantly diverting towards the kitchen area instead. "I need coffee if I'm going to get anything else done today," she noted absently as she took a mug out of a cupboard. She paused and asked, "would you like a drink?"

"Almond milk, if you've got it?"

"Charlie's started having it on her cereal," she noted absently, opening the fridge and grabbing the carton without looking. Remmy sat back into an armchair and watched thoughtfully as the stoat moved gracefully around the kitchen, making her coffee with practiced motions. In a few moments it was done and she had handed him the glass of milk and sat herself down on the footstool in front of the armchair, sipping at her coffee. "Thanks for today. For all of today." The genuine gratitude in her voice warmed his heart.

"It wasn't a problem-" Remmy begun.

"It was, though. And it came close to being an even bigger one. But you stuck by me." She smiled again, with such sincerity that he felt his heart skip a beat. "You're a good mammal, Remmy. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even my brother."

Remmy just smiled back at that, lost for words. The two mammals looked each other in the eye for a while - Remmy had no way of knowing how long - as Martina sipped away at her coffee, her expression thoughtful. As she finished it and placed the mug on the ground next to the footstool, she got to her feet, took Remmy's face in her paws, and placed a single, gentle kiss on his lips.

Some part of him that was out of sync with the rest of his mind was vaguely disappointed that she didn't taste like grape soda. But maybe it was just the coffee getting in the way.

\---

A minute later, Remmy had said goodnight to Martina and returned to his apartment. He stood just inside the doorway for a long moment, letting the door swing shut on it's own while he was busy lost in thought, before heading over to his bed and flopping backwards onto it. He stared up at the ceiling, his exhausted mind refusing to stop chugging away. After a while, he took his phone from his pocket, navigated it's browser to Zoogle, and after a long moment of hesitation, entered 'stoat sexual dimorphism' and pressed Search.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

Remmy mustered up his courage in front of Marty's door. Over the last couple of days he'd thought long and hard over what he was going to do about this whole situation. His first reaction had been to go ballistic, but a stronger impulse had been to try to figure out what the little weasel had been up to. And the more he analyzed Martina's- Marty's- actions, the more he calmed down.

His first thought had been that this was some sort of circuitous prank, but he couldn't see a pay-off to it. Unless the entire punchline was that he kissed a guy, but then, Marty would have too. He could see Wolter going for that gag, but not Marty.

So if it wasn't sinister, what was it? He had considered a number of possibilities, but in the end realized he didn't know enough about that sort of thing to get anywhere with speculation. So he had gone right to the source... eventually. After rehearsing what he was going to say. He took a deep breath and rapped his hoof against the door, only just realizing that he didn't have a plan for if Charlie answered the door as it swung open - thankfully, to reveal Marty's sleepy-looking, scowling face. "What is it, Rem?"

"Can we talk for a bit? It's about Martina."

"Now's not really a good time," Marty said, a note of evasiveness in his voice.

In response, Remmy pulled out his phone and consulted the article he had already read a dozen times. "'Sexual dimorphism in size is pronounced, with males being roughly 25% larger than females and one-point-five to two times their weight,'" Remmy read out, watching Marty's face from the corner of his eye as a whirlwind of emotions flashed over it - shock, regret, and fear being what he recognized.

"...yeah. I guess we gotta talk." Marty muttered reluctantly. He glanced back into the apartment towards the closed door to Charlie's room. "Your place okay?"

"Sure," Remmy agreed.

Marty followed Remmy down the hall and into his apartment, glancing around before sitting guardedly on the couch. Noting how uncomfortable Marty looked, Remmy said, "I'm not... mad or upset or anything. Just a whole bunch of confused."

"Familiar ground for you, then," Marty muttered, but without any real venom in his voice. Strangely, Remmy felt more comfortable to be on this familiar ground. He went to the fridge and took out one of the cans of grape soda before returning and holding it out to Marty wordlessly. Marty took the can from him with a snort and a wry grin, popping it open with the same practiced technique he had performed as Martina the other day and took a mouthful. Remmy sat himself down on the other end of the couch, his eyes not leaving Marty, who was staring down into the open can like it held the answer he was trying to find words for.

The silence was just starting to get uncomfortable when Marty finally launched into his explanation. "It's tough to be the little guy. Gotta keep from making a target of yourself. Prickly enough to keep people from fucking with you, but not so much that people think you're bad news." Remmy raised an eyebrow at that, and Marty snorted. "Okay, I'm not gonna pretend that it doesn't come natural to me, but even so that shit gets exhausting. I can decompress with Charlie and Ozzy but sometimes I need to get out of the building and stretch my legs without being at battle stations. And the thing is, people don't fuck with females as a matter of course here, the way they would with a guy." He shrugged. "Hence, Martina."

"So it's not..." Remmy waved a hoof in the air vaguely, searching for the words.

"No, it's not schizophrenia, or gender dysphoria, or anything complicated like that. Just a bit of recreational transvestism." He smiled, a little sadly. "Martina can smile at the world, without it taking it as a weakness. She can be friendly and happy and even a bit coy, sometimes. Marty does that, and he's just asking for trouble."

Remmy nodded along. He could see the attraction of the first part of what Marty was saying - if he thought putting on a dress would reduce the amount of flak he took, he probably would've been tempted quite a few times. And as to the rest of it... gender roles could be tricky, in Zootopia. Every species had it's own baggage. "That explains why Martina. But why Martina with me?"

"Like I said. I wanted to say thank you." Marty shrugged. "We've never seen eye to eye much, so I figured it'd be easier for Martina to do it. That simple."

"Why Valentine's Day, though? You had to know how I'd take that."

"I, uh." Marty ran a claw over the top of his head. "I kinda forgot what day it was." Remmy blinked a few times, then burst out laughing - big, heartfelt guffaws. Marty looked miffed for a moment, then chuckled along, shaking his head at himself. "I remembered quick enough after that kiss you gave me, though. After that... well, everything I told you as Marty was true. I did enjoy myself. You can be good company when that stick up your ass isn't making itself known. And then you went above and beyond in the city center, and, well..." Marty's voice trailed off as he spread his arms in a helpless shrug.

Remmy didn't have a reply to that, but couldn't stop a pleased smile from spreading across his face, and Marty couldn't help but return it. Another moment of silence stretched between the two of them once more, but this time it felt more natural.

"You did say Martina doesn't usually swing my way," Remmy said, slowly and carefully.

Marty stared off into the middle distance. "No, she doesn't. I don't. But it really has been fun. And... especially lately, I think I need a little fun in my life."

Remmy grimaced and looked away. "Yeah. I know that feeling." He thought hard for a long moment, then spent another gathering his courage. "If... you ever want to do this again. As Martina or as Marty. Well... you know where to find me."

Marty's shocked expression caused Remmy to smile, but not nearly so much as the tinge of happiness to it. But it faded away to be replaced with thought as Marty processed that. "I'll... have to think about it. This is off the edge of the map for me." Remmy nodded, knowing exactly what the stoat meant, but couldn't keep a wave of sadness from hitting him. But Marty wasn't done talking. "That said, I, uh... wouldn't be too surprised if you get a visit from me soon. In one guise or another." He smiled up at Remmy as he got to his feet, then suddenly, impulsively leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

It was different to how Martina kissed. It lacked the gentleness and grace - it was even a bit clumsy, landing as it did on one side of his mouth instead of dead center as Martina's had. But it was just as heartfelt, and this time, his lips did taste like grape.


End file.
